Lullabies and Nursery Rhymes for Bipartisanship

By Melissa Danielle

Summary: Life is never simple. Neither is love in Washington, D.C. AU season 4. Sam and Ainsley relationship.

Rating: Teen

Disclaimer: The West Wing belongs to NBC, Aaron Sorkin, etc. The characters in no shape or form belong to me.

Part 1: Democratic Lullabies

Madmen in Forests

The Saybrook Institute for Public Policy was located in Faith, North Carolina. It was situated on lush grounds—the wooden buildings had a fun but oddly classic appearance and the vegetation were sweet-smelling shades of green. It would have been the perfect place for a retreat, if they hadn’t been preparing for a presidential debate that they were terribly afraid of losing.

It was the middle of the afternoon and the air was warm and moist with humidity. They were taking a break and Sam had decided to steal a few precious moments to phone Ainsley.

He dialled the familiar number and she answered on the second ring, the sound of something dropping to the floor the first sound that Sam heard once she answered.

“How’s North Carolina?” she asked as soon as she managed to get a firm grip on the phone. Sam resisted the urge to question her about her coordination issues.

“It’s North Carolina,” he responded dryly. It wasn’t that he minded being in North Carolina but it was two days where he couldn’t see Ainsley, even just for a few brief moments. She was in Washington and he was stuck in North Carolina, subbing in for Ritchie the Republican.

“How’s playing Governor Ritchie going?” Ainsley asked cheerfully after they had finished exchanging pleasantries.

Sam groaned—sometimes having a Republican for a girlfriend was a serious drag. She was way too amused by him having to play Ritchie. “This is all your fault,” he accused her.

She burst out laughing. “My fault?” she exclaimed between fits of laughter.

“Yes, your fault.” Sam was pretty sure that he was sounding like a sullen seven year-old who had just been denied cookies but that didn’t matter. He was stuck playing Governor Ritchie and that was that.

“Explain to me, Sam, just how you having to play Governor Ritchie is my fault.”

Sam sputtered. “Well, it just is.”

“And they pay you to write for the President? I’m impressed,” she responded mildly. He’d bet his lunch money that her eyebrow was arched—she always did that when she was mocking him.

“Margaret saw us eating lunch. She proceeded to tell everyone at the White House. Leo even got wind of it. Then Leo got the brilliant idea that since I was friends with a Republican, I would be the best option for playing Ritchie.”

“And now you have to stay on the President’s case,” she guessed.

“Precisely.”

“Is the President beating you up?”

Sam sighed. “The President was a bit punchy.”

He could hear Ainsley nodding in understanding over the phone. “About Cornell Rooker?”

“Yep.”

Of course the old sticky situation of Cornel Rooker wasn’t the only thing that was bothering Sam, but he was unsure of how to broach the other topic that was gnawing at him. He might be employed at the Deputy Communications Director but sometimes the rights words just escaped him.

Ainsley was perceptive, though, and she picked up on the subtle nuisances in his voice. “But that’s not all,” she stated. She didn’t ask—she obviously could tell from his voice that there was something else going on.

He waited a beat before he let his little bomb drop, letting the drama build. It was sort of childish but sometimes Sam really liked dramatic moments. “The President’s going to lose New Hampshire.”

Ainsley winced.

Sam picked up on her wince and went on, laying it on thick and heavy, just like the air that was surrounding him as he talked on his cell. “Joey wants to put New Hampshire up on the board.”

“And you guys don’t want to do that.”

Sam shook his head. “We’re already telling him that he’s going to lose if he doesn’t behave differently than he usually does. We’re telling him that he can’t be the smartest kid in the class and that he has to sink down to Ritchie’s level.”

Ainsley was silent for a moment. “Ever think that maybe that’s not the best strategy?” She said it quietly, as if she really wasn’t sure that she wanted to ask what she had just asked.

“The polls keep saying that we have to, if we want to win.”

Ainsley sighed. “I just don’t know, Sam.” Now she just sounded depressed. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be more helpful.”

There was silence as neither spoke for a long minute that seemed to stretch.

“So, what else is on the agenda?”

Now Sam grinned. “We got strategy meetings for the rest of the day. At midnight, it will be time for Operation Toby.”

“Operation Toby?” Ainsley asked, her tone registering her confusion.

“Toby wants to re-kindle things with Andi.”

Ainsley laughed. “And you think Operation Toby will help Toby succeed in his endeavor?”

Sam pouted. “Hey, it’s a good plan. My plan.”

“Well, that explains it,” Ainsley said with a chuckle.

“I gotta go, Miss Sourpants, things to do, policies to make, people to get together.”

“You’re insane,” Ainsley pointed out.

Sam’s grin grew even wider. “But that’s why you love me.”

He had meant it as a joke but Ainsley was silent for a moment. The silence dragged on for a minute and Sam could feel himself begin to sweat. His palms grew damp. Then she said, “Nah, I only love you for your looks.”

Relieved and now laughing, Sam said good-bye and hung up the phone.